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At the heart of it, the rumors are Jason’s fault.
Matches is just about to get Two-Face to consider him for the Adams St. job with a bit of flattery and a touch of omega sweetness when Red Hood bursts through the door. Matches freezes with his hand on Two-Face’s chest, Two-Face freezes with his arm wrapped around Matches’ waist, and Red Hood plants his hands on his hips as he looks around the room.
“Shit, wrong warehouse,” Red Hood mutters, before spotting the two of them about to tango. “Um, what the fuck is this.”
None of his goddamn business, that’s what. Matches did not spend twenty minutes looking for his sluttiest shirt to let all his hard work go down the drain because Mr. Upstart Crime Boss here strolled into the wrong building.
“This is a private conversation between two consenting adults,” Matches snaps. “Scram, kid.”
Two-Face is already reaching for one of his guns, and Matches barely manages to distract him by sitting right on his lap.
“Sweetheart, ignore him,” he purrs, tugging on Two-Face’s tie. He spins his match to the corner of his mouth, leaning in to say, “It’s on him if he sticks around and catches something he doesn’t want to see.”
Two-Face raises an eyebrow, but his hand moves away from his gun and onto Matches’ behind instead, pulling him closer. His alpha scent flares, and Matches shifts not-so-subtly on his broad lap, eliciting a pleased rumble from Two-Face’s throat. “I always forget how saucy you are.” He waves a dismissive hand in Red Hood’s direction. “I’m feeling generous. Get out of here before I put a bullet or two through that stupid helmet.”
From the corner of his eye, Matches can see Red Hood’s hands clenching.
“Not until you get your scumbag hands off the omega in the hideous suit.”
Matches wants to smack his own head against the concrete floor. “Don’t even look at him,” he tries to tell Two-Face, but it’s no use.
“I don’t know what white knight nonsense you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not coercing anyone,” Two-Face growls. “Stay and watch if you want, but I doubt he’s going to give you a turn after he gets a taste of my knot.”
Somehow Matches can see Red Hood cringing from behind his helmet. “Ew, no, I don’t want a turn! Christ!”
“Then what the hell is your problem?”
“I want you to stop trying to fuck my mom, that’s what!” Red Hood hollers, throwing the first thing he can grab, which is a cardboard box. Two-Face barely dodges it, spinning himself and Matches out of the way as it explodes against the ground, flinging packages of highlighters everywhere. Matches sighs. He still hasn’t learned how to rein in that infamous temper.
“Goddammit, that could’ve- wait. Your mom? What?” Two-Face abruptly releases Matches, who totters a bit before finding his footing. “You have a kid?”
Matches should deny it. He should just pretend Red Hood is confused, or a liar, but for some reason the words just won’t leave his mouth.
“Well. I mean. It’s complicated, but-”
“You have a kid with fucking Batman?” Two-Face demands, pulling his gun out to wave it around. Matches puts up his hands.
“I. What?”
“Don’t play dumb, Malone. Every idiot and his mother knows that Red Hood is Batman’s bastard!”
“Excuse you,” Red Hood says, offended.
“They do?” Matches asks stupidly.
“Everyone always assumed the poor sod’s mother was dead, or out of the picture,” Two-Face says as he paces the floor. “But you’ve been around the whole time letting your brat run wild! Do you know how much property damage this idiot has caused me? And he’s tried to shoot me in the face at least twelve times.”
Twelve? Matches gives Red Hood a disapproving look. Hood flips him off.
“Oh, fuck off, Dent,” he jeers. “It’s not like any of the murder attempts took. Anyway, you blow shit up every other day; I don’t need a lecture from you.”
The “you’re not my dad!” is implied.
“Little Red Riding Hood here doesn’t really like to follow my instructions,” Matches says more truthfully than intended.
“No wonder. It’s the Bat DNA. Pain in the ass.” Two-Face runs a hand through his white shock of hair and sighs. “Look, Matches, out of respect for the, let’s say, good times we’ve had together, I’m gonna let you two leave without shooting your punk-ass kid in the leg. But we’ll have to stop these little tete-a-tetes.”
“Aw, c’mon, baby, family situation notwithstanding, you know ol’ Matches is good for whatever you need-”
“I know. You’ve always been one of my go-to guys. But to be honest, I’m just not ready to be a step-dad. And no way do I want to be sharing custody with fuckin’ Bats. It was good while it lasted, doll.” Two-Face gives Matches a soft kiss on the cheek and then a slap on the ass as farewell.
Red Hood immediately tries to retaliate so Matches grabs him by the shoulders and herds him out of the warehouse before anyone can get shot.
“I’m gonna grab gremlin bird’s sword and cut this motherfucker’s hand off, I swear-”
“Alright, alright, kiddo, let’s go. Hope you’ve got room on that bike of yours for two, seeing as I’ve got no ride out of here…”
“No, I’ve got something down on the docks I’ve gotta-”
“Hood,” Matches says, smiling widely. He spits out his match, crushing it under his heel. “You’re not the kind of boy who would leave his poor, defenseless mother outside a crime lord’s hideout right after ruining his plans for the night, are you?” He fists a hand in Red Hood’s jacket and shakes him. “Are you?”
Hood ducks his head and thrusts a motorcycle helmet at him. “...no.”
The ride back to the Manor is silent. It’s all Bruce can do to stop himself from flinging himself off the back of Jason’s motorcycle in frustration.
On the one hand, Jason completely screwed up his op. Bruce is going to have to send Tim or one of the girls in to deal with this; they all have established underworld identities that shouldn’t ping Harvey’s radar if they join up as a last minute addition.
On the other hand, Bruce is going to be riding the high of Jason calling him “mom” for probably a few weeks. He isn’t sure if he should bring it up or not. It’s likely Jason will try denying that it ever happened, so it’s best to let it go. Still, Bruce can’t help but wonder how long Jason’s been thinking of him this way. He tightens his arms around his son’s waist, unable to help his slight purr of contentment, and he feels Jason twitch in annoyance.
The second they disembark in the cave, Jason whirls on him.
“Were you seriously going to sleep with fucking Two-Face?!” he shrieks. His scent is all over the place, but Bruce knows that when he gets worked up like this, trying to soothe him just makes things worse.
“No,” Bruce defends, as he peels off his fake mustache. “It was all part of the ploy.”
“His hand on your ass is a ploy?”
“It isn’t a big deal. Harvey’s hands have touched much more-”
“Oh my god, do not tell me this,” Jason yells, fleeing deeper into the cave. “And stop using seduction as your go-to undercover strategy! You’re giving us omegas a bad name!”
“I barely ever try to seduce anyone,” Bruce mutters to himself, knowing Jason is out of earshot by now. He uses wet-wipes to swipe away most of the artificial omega scent cocktail he designed for Matches. Harvey knows Bruce’s scent too well for him to leave it undisguised when he goes out under a different persona. Damn Matches Malone for having a known dynamic. If he could disguise himself as a beta instead, tonight’s incident wouldn’t have happened.
Then again, Bruce wouldn’t be able to use seduction to such great effect. Hm. Maybe Jason was right.
Bruce sheds Matches’ ugly clothes and dons the batsuit and his artificial alpha scent to go deal with some other problems for the night. Hopefully by the time he returns, Jason will have calmed down. It’s good for him to get some distance too, so they don’t get in a big fight about Jason’s volatile emotions.
He gets home later than intended, but luckily Jason’s decided to stay over in the manor for the night, so he’s still tinkering in the cave when Bruce returns. He scowls a little when Bruce draws near, but his scent isn’t rearing up anymore, so Bruce takes the initiative to sit on the bench next to him.
He decided earlier to shelve the mom conversation for another time, so he asks the other question on his mind.
“Why does everyone think Red Hood is Batman’s illegitimate son?”
Jason squints at him. “Well, isn’t he?”
“I- no, that’s not how I would put it. Where did people get this idea from?”
Jason glances down at the modified taser in his hand, looking shifty. “Look, let’s just say that some things were said that cannot be unsaid. The important thing is that I’ve leveraged the ‘deadbeat dad Batman’ thing for some valuable intel before, so if anyone asks you how our relationship is, just tell them I’m still pissed about the way you treated my mom.”
“...who is apparently Matches Malone.”
“Yeah, that’s a new addition to the lore. He was pushing my buttons!” Jason exclaims when Bruce gives him a flat look. “What else am I supposed to do when I see some knothead pawing all over my m- uh, martial arts teacher.”
“Is that what I am?” Bruce tries to keep his expression neutral, but Jason can evidently sense his amusement anyway, because he tosses a random bolt at Bruce in irritation.
“Yeah, so bug off, I don’t need your help right now.”
“Alright. Don’t stay up too late.” The taser is on the table and Jason’s hands are busy fiddling with some wires, so Bruce decides to take his chances. In one smooth motion he rises off the bench and pulls Jason’s head to his chest, dabbing his wrist against his pup’s neck to override some of Jason’s own artificial alpha pheromones with his own soft omega scent. Jason sputters until Bruce releases him but he doesn’t throw anything this time, which Bruce will consider a win.
Although Harvey won’t be falling for Matches’ charms again any time soon, the persona is still good for other uses.
It’s why he’s at one of Gotham’s most popular rogue-friendly bars for the night, trying to get dirt on what villainy they might be planning. However, the second he takes a seat with a club soda, all eyes seem to be on him, and not for any reason he can discern, which is alarming.
“Looking’s free, but you’ll have to buy me a drink if you want any hand stuff,” he jokes, but this just seems to bring the mood down further. Tough crowd.
“Matches,” says a nervous looking guy with a combover at the next table over, who Matches recognizes as an associate of his, Sly Sam. “We, uh, heard about Batman.”
A mutter of agreement passes through the crowd.
“What about the Bat?” Matches says, playing it cool. “He been skulking around here recently?”
“No, but we’ll let you know if he starts.” Sam is oddly fired up about this.
“You’re safe here with us, Matches,” Janice, an enforcer for one of Gotham’s more notorious beta gangs says. “If he comes sniffing around here we’ll show him what happens when he messes with one of our own.”
That’s sweet of her to say, but Matches still isn’t sure what Batman has done recently to earn their ire.
An older alpha sitting at the bar nods. “Someone needs to teach him how to step up, be a family man. Maybe he needs some real alphas to beat the lesson into him.”
“I can’t believe he’s been forcing you to raise Red Hood all by yourself this whole time,” Sonya, the bar girl, sniffs. “What an asshole.”
Oh. Matches sets his glass on the scarred tabletop. This is worse than he thought. “You all know about that?”
Janice nods sympathetically. “We all knew Bats knocked up and abandoned some poor omega, we just didn’t know it was you ‘til Two-Face was ranting and raving about it the other night.”
“Well, it’s something I don’t much like spreadin’ around.” Matches fiddles with his sunglasses, avoiding her eyes. “We didn’t really part on good terms.”
“I’ll say.” Sonya shakes her head as she passes out the drinks on her tray. “Hood’s been complaining for years about how Batman never provided him with anything. It must have been so hard, the two of you living on your own like that.”
Just how long has Jason been running this scam?
Sam gives Matches a pitying look. “I always thought you were the kind of omega who just liked having a good time, y’know? Nothing wrong with that. But now I’m realizing it’s deeper than that. Batman really did a number on you, huh?”
Great, now Matches’ reputation is taking a turn. He might have to just lean into it.
He sighs, his shoulders slumping, and the crowd presses in. Their anticipation hangs heavy in the air.
“I knew he was bad news, but I was young, impressionable. It was supposed to be a one time thing, but when you’ve got a strong, handsome alpha’s attention all on you, sometimes it’s easy to forget why you made yourself promise not to get in over your head. And then you let it go on long enough that you fool yourself into thinking it means more than it does…until you’re alone in the delivery room and you don’t even know what name to write on your pup’s birth certificate.”
His voice is wistful, bitter, and the crowd hisses in anger, their disgust at Batman at an all time high.
This is probably going to come back to bite him in the ass. At least no one’s going to doubt Batman’s status as an alpha for a long, long while.
“That fucking dick!”
“Alpha scum,” a slim omega spits out.
“Sanctimonious douchebag always lecturing us on what’s right and wrong and he doesn’t even mate the mother of his child? Fuck him!”
“No wonder you haven’t settled down since then,” Janice says.
“I’m not hung up on him or anything,” Matches replies, knowing he sounds defensive. “But when you’ve been thrown away once, you gotta be careful about who you trust.”
He gets a chorus of agreement on that.
“What really gets my goat is that he’s hooked up with the richest omega in the country and he can’t even spare a couple of bucks for his kid? The nerve!” someone says from a few tables down, slamming his beer bottle back down.
“Yeah, he’s out here saving Bruce Wayne all the time, but he won’t even acknowledge his baby mama by name!”
“Well, Bruce Wayne’s in a different class…I mean, if I had a smokeshow like him in my bed…”
“Typical shallow alpha reasoning,” somebody sneers. “Try thinking with something other than your dick-”
“Oh, come on, I like Matches as well as the next guy, but Brucie is, you know…”
“Don’t tell me you’re taking Batman’s side!”
“Of course not!”
“Okay, calm down, fellas. I’m not gonna try and catfight Brucie and steal his man,” Matches says, standing. “That ship’s long since sailed; Brucie can keep the galoot. The only thing me and Batman are ever going to be is an old wound. I’m never gonna let him hurt me again.”
Janice reaches over and claps him on the arm. “Yeah, that’s the spirit!”
“That’s our Matches,” a tall biker says, nodding in approval.
“Thanks for the pep talk guys. I best be going before the night gets away from me. But if any of youse hear anything about someone in need of a lookout, you know where to find me.” He points to the crowd as they agree, and begins heading toward the door.
He gets intercepted by a petite blonde and his guard instantly goes up when he realizes that it’s Harley Quinn bouncing on her heels in front of him. Matches and Harley are on good terms, but you never truly know with clowns.
“Harley, doll, good to see you.”
Harley sizes him up for a second before reaching up to pat him on the cheek. “I know all about bastard boyfriends, sweetie, and you are so strong for learning to let go and move on. Next time I see old Bats I’ll hit him extra hard with my mallet for ya.”
Please don’t, Matches can’t say, so he summons up a weak smile for her. “Thanks. That’s kind of you.”
He departs the bar, waving his goodbyes as everyone else raises a glass. From a data gathering point of view, he wasn’t entirely unsuccessful, he just learned something he didn’t really want to know.
Partway through his walk to one of his safehouses, two young women fall into step next to him: one alpha and one beta. Their arms are linked, and each is sipping leisurely from a bubble tea. The dark-haired one jostles Matches by accident, and ducks her head in apology as they pass. It’s no surprise when Matches locks the door of his shitty apartment and finds two Batgirls lounging on his ratty couch.
“It must be a slow night if you’re both here,” he comments, taking a seat next to Cassandra after shrugging off his suit jacket.
“Eh.” Stephanie makes a so-so motion with her hand. “Caught some guys here and there on Babs’ intel. Then we got a little distracted by a lil story about family turmoil…”
“Full of drama,” Cass agrees. She smiles when Bruce groans, scooching closer on the couch to nuzzle into his side, chirping when he brushes her flyaway hairs down.
“Why were you two even listening?”
“Saw Harley ducking in and thought we should keep tabs for a little bit, just in case. Your past was so sad,” Steph says, dabbing at her eyes. “I never realized what a depressing backstory Matches had. Who knew Batman was such an asshole?”
“Evil,” Cass agrees. She shakes her head. “Very disappointing.”
“Do not encourage this,” Bruce tells them sternly. “The last thing I need is more ties between Matches and Batman.”
“Aw, but I was really hoping you two would get back together!”
“I kind of like Bruce Wayne with Batman,” Cass counters.
“Ugh, Bruce is obviously the rebound.”
“Bruce does not approve of this conversation. Neither do Matches or Batman.”
Bruce had assumed, erroneously, that this whole Matches and Batman matter was something that only the common riffraff of Gotham were concerned with. His more dangerous rogues are usually too busy to worry about cheap gossip.
When some of them catch Batman in a death trap, he jumps to the logical conclusion that it’s for the usual reasons: they want money and Batman needs to be out of the way, they want to conquer Gotham and Batman needs to be out of the way, Batman is generally just loathsome to them and he needs to be out of the way, etc.
“With you out of the way, there’s no one standing between us and the vault!” Penguin cackles, twirling his umbrella in triumph.
“Indeed. I have to say, I’m disappointed, Batman. You usually give a better showing than this,” Riddler says, smirking next to his rotund friend. These two are irritating enough on their own, but together they’re a real trial on the nerves.
“There are plenty of other heroes in Gotham who will stop you,” Batman grunts as he begins working at the rope around his wrists. He doesn’t really feel like taking a dip in the tank full of piranhas below him.
“Your little birds will have to get through my torturous maze of wits first!”
“On that note,” Penguin says, narrowing his eyes at Batman. “With the rumors swirling around, I’m surprised your flock haven’t all rebelled against you already.”
“Especially with the way you treat their mothers.”
God, not this again. Batman wriggles a little harder.
“Well, we always knew you were a brute,” Riddler continues, clicking his tongue.
“This just confirms it.”
“Neither of you are exceptional models of traditional family values,” Batman grumbles at them to distract from his reaching into his utility belt.
“But we don’t purport to be something we aren’t!” Penguin says. He jabs his umbrella in Batman’s direction.
“I know it’s hard for you to understand, as an alpha. Ruled by your base instincts, unlike us enlightened betas,” Riddler says, condescension dripping from every word. “But it’s a bad look, you running around out here moralizing at people when you can’t even commit to the omega who birthed your pup.”
“A mark of degeneracy. No wonder Red Hood acts up.”
“Not to mention that annoying little Robin…”
“Which one? He’s had a dozen of them!” Penguin squawks.
“Now, that’s the real riddle — how did a thug like you father so many pups? You would think word of mouth would have put a stop to your philandering ways.” There seems to be a slight hint of envy in the Riddler’s voice.
“My status as a prime alpha is difficult to resist,” Batman says, palming the flashbang he just fished out of his belt. “My pheromones are especially attractive to unmated omegas.”
“Prime alpha? That’s only a myth. It isn’t real,” Riddler sneers. He’s right, obviously, but it never does any good to let him know that.
“Of course it is. How else do you think I landed Bruce Wayne?”
This gives them something to think about.
Penguin rubs his chin. “Hmmm. You make an interesting point. In fact, it’s strange that you’ve stayed together so long, considering your track record. I guess he’s really as…diverting as everyone assumes.”
“Hn.” Batman shrugs apathetically, or gives the best approximation of a shrug one can give while bound and hanging upside down.
Riddler reacts with consternation at first, and then realization dawns. “Wait. You’re just in it for the money, aren’t you!” he accuses. “As if you’d want to play papa to Wayne’s brats when you already have your own basketball team of bastards. You don’t care about him any more than your other throwaway omegas! You’re just a gold digger!”
“It explains where you get the funds for your fancy toys! What’s your going rate, Batman, a couple thousand per night?”
“Is…is that really how you paid for the Batmobile?” asks a horrified voice from behind. The rogues spin around to see the Signal with his hands clapped over his mouth. Batman tries not to sigh.
“And here’s another one! Where did you suddenly come from?” Penguin demands, gesturing at Signal.
“Outside.”
“No! I meant when and why you joined up with Batman! I thought his newer spawn would know better after seeing the way he tosses away the old ones.”
“Well, he only let me into his life recently,” Signal says, looking away, his body language closed off. “Before that, he only visited me a few times when I was young…I didn’t want to miss out on a chance to finally get to know him.”
Technically true, and very unnecessarily damning. Wonderful.
“You disgust me,” Riddler says to Batman. “Truly.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
Batman finally tosses the flashbang, blinding his indignant rogues and their goons while Signal rushes over in the confusion and helps him swing to safety, free of piranhas. It isn’t hard to truss up the crew afterwards, especially when Nightwing drops in to round up the ones fleeing out the door.
Batman gags them for good measure. Wouldn’t want them spreading even more rumors while they await the GCPD. When he finally gets outside, his two rescuers follow. They already seem to be giggling to themselves behind their hands.
“You’re a big deal, huh, prime alpha?” Signal asks as they regroup on a rooftop, listening to the chatter on the GCPD’s radio.
“Pretend you never heard that.”
“Nooope. I’ve already integrated it into my identity. I’m gonna tell people I inherited it from you.”
“Do that and we’ll be faced with the same ridicule for believing in pseudoscience.”
“I think we should be more concerned about you being a gold digger,” Nightwing says, snickering alongside Signal when Batman glares. He’s tempted to scruff them both for the insolence.
“Don’t start.”
“They have a point, you know. You shouldn’t have sired so many baby birds if you couldn’t afford to take care of them!” he calls after Batman as he tries to grapple away from this mockery. “Good thing you’ve got a sugar mama now!”
“Tell our stepmom I want a pony!” Signal yells.
Batman makes a mental note to sign them both up for a double dose of Alfred’s etiquette refresher.
As embarrassing as the whole Gotham love triangle is for both Matches and Batman, it’s definitely most mortifying for Bruce Wayne, the interloping, mate-snatching, homewrecking bimbo with loose morals but a tight— anyway, Bruce was really hoping that the underworld whispers wouldn’t be making their way up to polite society.
And until today, they hadn’t. But Bruce hasn’t been kidnapped or restrained at an event in well over six months, and some people have taken it upon themselves to change that, so now he’s tied to his chair in the middle of a fundraiser for the Gotham Elderly Housing Commission, listening to a group of people in bunny masks monologuing about why they deserve the money more than the city’s retirees. Tim and Damian, who had the poor fortune to be stuck on event duty this month, are tied up together, which Bruce knows is making them both restless. They already tussle enough in his nest as it is. But the three of them are right on display, so there’s no good way to escape without causing trouble for the other patrons also being held at gunpoint. He activated his distress beacon soon after being tied down, but it seems like everyone is occupied with more pressing matters.
Just as Bruce starts mulling over his surprise that their captors are a one off group of criminals and not any of his rogues, a humongous vine comes smashing through the window, smacking the bunny people every which way. That’s going to be a pain to deal with after this. Hopefully one of his pups has bat-weedkiller in their belts. In the ensuing insanity, the civilians make a break for the door, which makes Bruce’s job easier.
“Sorry, boys, but he’s mine tonight,” Poison Ivy says as she steps elegantly down the length of the vine toward Bruce. Behind her come Mr. Freeze and Bane, of all people. This is a weird teamup. It’s a bit unusual for them to cooperate to harass the Gotham elite. Money usually divides their ranks, instead of building solidarity, but nevertheless, Ivy isn’t alone.
“This is a surprise,” Bruce says, offering Ivy a smile. “But I’ll never say no to being rescued by a gorgeous woman.”
She laughs, and reaches out to trace a fingernail down Bruce’s cheek. He hears Damian let out a little hiss that’s stopped by Tim elbowing him in the side.
“Let’s not play games, Mr. Wayne. Our charms don’t work on each other, and as airheaded as you are, you know what I’m here for. Transfer over all the proceeds from tonight, and I might just let you off lightly.”
He just smiles wider, letting his bright scent bloom anyway to counteract her own floral fragrance dulling the senses of everyone else in the room. Her hand clenches tighter around his chin as he says, “I’m sorry, darling, but my hands are quite literally tied. Maybe if you let me free?”
“And give you the chance to try anything? I don’t think so. It’s the modern age, we’ll just do it by smartphone.”
“Sorry, but I don’t know my bank passwords.”
She releases him in disgust as he spreads his scent out even stronger, her nose wrinkling. They’ve all done this kidnapping rigmarole enough times that everyone knows that threatening Brucie with physical harm never gets anywhere. He just cries so hard he slobbers everywhere, his helpless honeyed apple and clove scent spiking so violently autumn it makes everybody around him want to retch.
“We’re wasting time,” Freeze says, readying his ice gun. “Mr. Wayne. We find ourselves in need of funds, and if you cooperate, we will release you and your pups without any harm. Give us whatever cash is in the donation box. We know there must be some.”
Bruce really has to insist people stop showing up to these things with literal briefcases of bills just to show off. It inevitably ends with someone running off with a bag full of benjamins like a cartoon bank robber.
“Well, I would, but you know, it’s not all mine. I think some of the benefactors would be a little annoyed if I just up and gave away all their donations. What do you need the money for? I could see if I could convince them to write a few more checks?” he offers, blinking innocently when Freeze rubs at his temple in annoyance. Next to him, Bane snorts, and the sound makes Tim stiffen.
“For science, Mr. Wayne. Dr. Isley and I are both in pursuit of knowledge. She acts on the planet’s behalf, and I on my wife’s.”
“You’re doing this for your wife? That’s so romantic,” Bruce simpers.
“Yes. She is my mate, my angel— I’m sure you would also do anything for your…pups,” Freeze says, seemingly only having just remembered Bruce’s reputation.
“Definitely. Anything.” Maybe he can convince Victor to let the boys go…
“Including whoring yourself out for protection,” sneers one of the bunny people on the floor, who Bruce had assumed was unconscious. “He’s just stalling for time until Batman can come rescue his ass!”
Damian starts struggling harder against his restraints and Tim bumps him with an arm. Meanwhile, Bane coughs, a surprisingly delicate sound coming from his huge body. Bruce wishes he had something to throw at him.
“He’ll be waiting quite a while. El murciélago is otherwise occupied tonight,” Bane says when Ivy and Freeze begin glancing toward the exits.
“Is he?” Bruce grits out. “How unlucky for me.”
“Indeed, he seems to be tied up with something.” Bane is definitely smiling under his mask. Asshole.
“Honestly, you could do a lot better than Batman,” Ivy says. Bruce didn’t expect her to care about this kind of tabloid nonsense, but she probably heard Harley going off about it.
This time, Bane just straight up laughs. Bruce glares. Bane has never given him away before, and Bruce doubts he’s going to start now, but he’d be wise to keep his amusement to himself.
“You don’t think so?” she asks Bane, her eyebrow raised. “I know you have some silly alpha rivalry with Batman going on, but even you should be able to admit that he’s hardly suitable mate material. Haven’t you heard what he did to all his omega lovers? Tossed them away after they gave birth to his little birds!”
“Reprehensible,” Freeze says, shaking his head. “The thought of anyone treating a delicate omega like my beloved Nora that way…Batman is colder than even myself.”
Bane chuckles to himself once more, enjoying Bruce’s plight way too much. Bruce supposes it’s his form of payment for keeping two of Bruce’s biggest secrets for no reason other than mutual respect. “Only a fool would think Gotham’s favorite socialite didn’t know exactly what he was getting into when he entangled himself with Batman.”
“Exactly!” another one of the bunny people suddenly pipes up. Bruce thought they would have had the sense to skedaddle after getting overshadowed, but apparently not. “Everyone knows he’s a homewrecking little slut!”
A third nods. “Too stupid to know Batman’s just using him for his bank account and his-”
“Watch yourselves,” Ivy snaps, and a rush of vines begin binding the remaining bunny folks who haven’t yet left. She leaves them dangling in midair as she turns back to Bruce. He thinks she’s going to shake him down for the fundraiser money again, but she just comments snidely, “I do have to say, it’s disappointing to know you don’t subscribe to omega solidarity. You must know Batman has neglected his own pups and former lovers; I can’t imagine he’ll be any better to you and your own.”
Bruce finally feels a soft vibration in his pocket: a sign that someone’s on their way to rescue them from this fiasco. It must be a busy night if the police haven’t gathered around the building yet. He taps his heel very lightly against the floor to signal to the boys that it’s almost go time. Tim elbows Damian in the side for the third time. Bruce watches as his youngest purses his mouth but dutifully begins the process of summoning his crocodile tears.
As much as Damian loathes playing the role of the Wayne family baby, he’s gotten very good at it.
“Whatever you think my relationship with Batman is, I promise you I only do the best for my children.” Bruce is frosty, no longer speaking with Brucie’s bubbly, amicable tone.
“Then it would really be best for you to settle down with a more reputable mate,” Freeze advises. “Batman will only break your heart in the end.”
“There is no shortage of better alphas who want to vie for your hand instead,” Bane says, gesturing around the room. “Take up with one of them. I don’t doubt you could bring one home this very night.”
“There’s surely someone out there who wants you for more than your assets. You’ll thank us down the line, honey.”
Bruce tamps down on his irritation at this stupid situation to paint on his “offended princess” face at all the unsolicited advice. In his most wounded voice, he cries, “Does everyone think I’m so fickle? So unfaithful? I know the whole city thinks I’m nothing more than a harlot sinking his claws into any alpha who catches his fancy, but I’m only human too! I can’t help who my heart latches onto! I’ve heard the rumors about Batman. I know what they’re saying about me too. And I’m sorry to all those who came before me, but the bond between myself and Batman isn’t their business. Call me a tramp if you want, but don’t doubt the depth of my feelings!”
Ivy and Freeze share an awkward look, and right on cue, a loud wail bursts out from Bruce’s youngest pup, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
“I- I don’t understand why you would say such awful things about my mama,” Damian mumbles through his sobs, his tears overflowing from his green eyes. His mouth does a little wobble. Masterful.
Next to him, Tim is obviously trying not to laugh. Luckily, everyone’s too busy with Damian to notice, which is why it’s the perfect time for Red Hood to crash through a window, tranq gun blazing. He loves drama too much to use the convenient hole Ivy already left behind, opting to send even more plate glass flying everywhere for his entrance.
He hits Ivy in the neck, and Bane in the chest, but Freeze is in his full suit, of course, so there’s no recourse but to engage in some hand in hand. Red Hood dodges each ice blast with relative grace despite his bulk, and successfully smashes through Freeze’s domed helmet, sending him to his knees.
“Let’s get you on ice,” Hood says, throwing Freeze onto the caterers’ ice table to keep him cool until the cops arrive. Bruce can finally hear the sound of sirens, so the GCPD must be close. Hood isn’t going to stick around to help them wrap up, but the original kidnappers are still subdued, and with Freeze running out of coolant and Ivy unconscious on the floor, even Gotham cops should be able to handle cleanup.
However, Bane is still standing, even with three tranq darts in his chest.
“Alright, big guy, let’s rumble,” Red Hood says, raising his fists. He looks like a raccoon about to fight a bear.
Bane glances between him and Bruce and then reaches down to rip out the darts poking him, tossing them to the floor. “How valiant of you to save your dear mother’s rival. A weakness I would expect of Batman’s spawn. You take after your father after all. No wonder Malone struggled to raise you.”
“You keep my mother’s name out of your mouth, dickwad.”
“Don’t provoke him, Red Hood,” Bruce calls, slightly afraid that he’s going to have to dunk his son in a Lazarus pit for the second time.
He and his other boys all wince when Bane easily knocks Red Hood to the ground and then lifts him high. Bruce’s heart speeds up in fear, but all Bane does is toss Hood into the vines and brush off his hands.
“The collection box is in the foyer, yes?” Bane asks Bruce, who wishes Red Hood had tranquilized the bunny people too, so Bruce could rip out of his restraints and give Bane the fight they’re both itching for.
But the money can be recouped another time; it isn’t worth trading away Hood’s safety for, so Bruce just nods until Bane nods back.
“Excellent. Enjoy your evening, Wayne. And do not forget: if you lose your patience with Batman, there are many other alphas in the city who wish to pursue you.”
While Bruce boggles at this nugget of wisdom, Bane strolls out of the hall and Hood struggles back up to his feet.
“Shit, guess I should be glad he didn’t throw me at the windows,” Hood says as he trots over to free Bruce.
“Wait, why’re you saving him?” one of the bunny men yells. He’s hanging somewhere near the ceiling. “He ruined your mom’s life!”
“That’s exactly why, moron! I wanted to see his vapid floozy face for myself,” Red Hood growls, as he rips the tape off Bruce’s wrists and starts shaking him by the collar. “I wanted him to know that he’s in my debt now. So are his little brats.” He kicks the legs of the chair Tim and Damian are tied to, sending them crashing to the ground.
“Ow, what the fuck,” Tim mutters. “Damian, your face okay?”
“We will have our revenge,” Damian hisses into the floor.
Bruce hurries over to free them and remains on the floor as he rubs at their chafed wrists. He looks up at Red Hood looming over him, making sure to make himself look a bit pitiful as he says, voice trembling, “...I know you have many reasons to hate me, but thank you for saving us.” He keeps a hand wrapped tight around Damian so he doesn’t try and get in a stab or two at his brother. Bruce is pretty sure he hid a steak knife in his shoe earlier.
“I don’t need your fucking thanks. Just remember that you owe me now,” Red Hood scoffs. “Get going already.” He gestures impatiently at the door until Bruce grabs Tim and Damian by the hand, hurrying them out of the hall in time to run into the cops. None of them look injured, so Bane must have already gone on his way.
The police try to herd Bruce and his brood into a squad car to debrief at the precinct, but Bruce manages to beg off, swaying them into letting him follow up with them at the manor tomorrow. Alfred pulls up shortly, and Bruce and Tim spend the drive back home talking Damian down from his more grandiose revenge plans.
The following weekend, Bruce invites Jason over to the manor for brunch. Although Jason still has his own room, he prefers to stay in his apartment, perhaps out of fear of being forced into Bruce’s nest.
No one gets stabbed during the meal, though Damian does manage to splash syrup on Jason’s hair by proxy through Duke. After Jason washes himself free of syrup, Bruce corners him in the sitting room for their overdue conversation.
“Jay, this illegitimate child thing has become completely unmanageable. We need to quash any further gossip before Hugo Strange tries to stage family therapy for us in the middle of a firefight.”
“That’d be funny, actually.”
“No. I don’t mind you vilifying Batman for your needs, but this drama is starting to make it impossible for Matches or Brucie to get anything done either. If it continues, I’m conscripting you for undercover and event duty to make up for it.”
“Ughhh,” Jason groans, sliding lower on the sofa, his legs sticking out in a V. He used to do the same thing when Bruce told him to put away his book and go to sleep; seeing his old habits in this large body makes Bruce smile. “Fine. What do we have to do.”
“We’ll stage the conclusion to this family soap opera that Gotham so desperately wants to see. You can help Alfred set the scene, if you’d like.”
Jason perks up. “Yeah? You’re gonna let us write the script?”
“Most of it, sure. I might veto anything too outlandish.”
“You love outlandish,” Jason says, but he bounds out of the room with pep in his step, off to find Alfred. Bruce is wise enough to be wary, but Alfred should be able to restrain Jason’s more outrageous ideas.
Red Hood and Batman’s family drama comes to a head a week later, while Hood is overseeing the import of a new kind of sneeze spray bomb. Bruce would really rather Jason didn’t help spread weapons around Gotham, but there are only so many battles he can win.
He touches down at the docks, where Hood is embroiled in a negotiation about prices with Catman, Scarface, and his goons. Kind of an eclectic group, but Batman knows for a fact that all his rogues talk amongst themselves, so as long as some of them catch wind of this, everyone will know eventually.
“Looks like we have an unwanted visitor,” Catman sneers as Batman steps forward. “This isn’t really your part of town, Batman.”
“Every neighborhood in Gotham is my part of town, Blake.” Catman makes to move on him, but Batman just sidesteps him, making a beeline for Red Hood.
“Hey, dummy, don’tcha see we’re in the middle of somethin’ here?” Scarface snaps, Wesker’s nervous form hovering behind him.
“I’m not here about that.”
“Do I look like I give a shit? Get lost before we pump you fulla lead!”
“Hold your horses,” Hood says, putting up a hand. “I’ve learned it’s better to just get him out of the way. What do you want? There’s nothing illegal happening here.” He motions toward the wooden crates stamped with the words “unicorn slime”: clearly something that their little group has deeply bonded over.
“We need to talk. Come with me.”
“What? No, just spit it out already.”
“It’s…private,” Batman says, glancing at the criminals all warily watching.
“Fuck off, it’s either here, or nowhere.” Hood shifts his stance to the defensive, and Batman takes a step back, trying not to present himself as a threat.
“Stop wasting everyone’s time,” Catman says, so Batman exhales and just bites the bullet.
“I broke things off with Wayne,” he says. Red Hood flinches at the news so naturally that Batman almost believes it for a second. Alfred certainly trained him well.
“You did?” Catman asks, eyes wide. “So he’s, uh, single then?”
Scarface scoffs. “Wayne? He’s a pretty face, I’ll give him that, but a moron if I’ve ever seen one. Matches is obviously the better choice.”
Batman ignores them in favor of clearing his throat, sidling a few inches closer to Red Hood, who holds up a hand. “So what? Why would I care what new naive omega you’ve got popping out pups for you? I can hardly keep track of the half-siblings I already have.”
“There is no other omega. I’ve…reevaluated the state of my pack bonds recently and realized I needed to make some changes. Starting with you. We haven’t always seen eye to eye. Especially considering the relationship between your mother and me.”
“Understatement of the millennium,” Hood mutters, but he doesn’t retreat as Batman approaches.
“What Matches and I had— it was never meant to develop into more. But that doesn’t excuse the way I treated him, or you. It’s time I changed that. I already spoke to your mother.”
Red Hood stiffens. “…he let you meet him?”
“We both knew the conversation was overdue. Although we’ve agreed that anything between us remains in the past, he’s allowed me the chance to try and make amends with you.”
This is when Batman is supposed to awkwardly offer a truce, a ceasefire between himself and Matches, welcoming Hood back into the fold like he’s one of Batman’s copious Robins. Hood will refuse, claiming he wants nothing to do with the annoying bats and birds, and they’ll argue loudly about it until Batman whips out his adoption papers to show Hood how serious he is about stepping up as his father. Hood won’t be able to bring himself to rip the papers up, and he retreats with them crumpled in his hand as Batman calls forlornly after him. An ambiguous conclusion that pushes Red Hood and Batman into a new phase of their estranged relationship, while mercilessly cutting the thread entangling Brucie and Batman, and freeing Matches from the shadow of his failed romance. Curtains close on this one-man tragedy.
Batman knows what lines come next. He memorized them the same night Alfred handed them over. But there’s something else he needs to say first.
“Red Hood. All those years ago…I should have been there. And I wasn’t. And for that, I’m sorry. You- you’ll never know how much it’s been weighing on me.”
Red Hood first looks confused, and then apprehensive as he realizes that Batman isn’t sticking with the plan. At least Catman and Scarface are blessedly silent, glancing between the two of them.
Hood tries to regroup despite Batman diverging from what they rehearsed. “Yeah, well, it’s too late-”
“I know. I can’t undo the past. I can’t go back and protect you the way I should have. I can’t undo the things that happened to you.” Bruce is going off script, but he doesn’t care. The best stories bloom from a seed of truth. And there’s nothing truer than what he’s going to say next.
“I don’t want to make the same mistake again. I don’t want to lose you a second time because I was too stubborn to reconnect. No matter our differences, and no matter what happens in the future, you will always be part of my pack. You’re my son…and I love you.”
For a second, Bruce thinks he’s going to get punched in the face for making it too real. It isn’t like he and Jason haven’t discussed this before, as best as two emotionally unsound people can. But sometimes he still doubts that Jason knows.
Bruce had been heartbroken the first time he crawled into his nest without his pup, unable to stop whimpering into Jason’s blanket even when Dick crawled in to comfort him. Even when Tim showed up to kickstart Bruce’s life back into gear, even after his home and nest were filled again, the wound in Bruce’s chest from losing Jason never healed. It’s why, no matter the price, no matter how unbalanced the scales, Bruce can never regret that his son was returned to him.
But it always seemed like they talked around the heart of their issues, winding in circles through the sea of baggage between them until they were too exhausted to continue. Bruce is tired of fumbling through the dark, the two of them unable to echolocate the other’s feelings.
So even if these ridiculous rumors ruin his reputation with everyone else in Gotham, at least Bruce can do this much. At least he can tell his son he loves him.
Jason does not punch Bruce in the face, but he does take a few steps back, widening the space between them. Before Bruce has the chance to wish that he could finally shrink that distance for good, Jason speaks.
“You’re right. I needed you and you weren’t there. And for a long, long time, that hurt. But at least I wasn’t alone.” Red Hood looks up, and though their eyes can’t meet through their respective masks, Bruce can almost read Jason’s expression underneath.
“My mom might not have been the most capable, and his nighttime activities got him in trouble from time to time, but he— I know he always loved me,” Jason says, and Bruce has to dig his gloved fingers into his palms to stop from reacting. “He did what he could to give me a loving home. I know he only ever wanted what was best for me, and I know, if he had the chance, he would give anything to make right everything that went wrong while I was growing up. Even the things that were never his fault. So if…if he’s willing to give you a chance, then I guess I am too.”
Bruce’s poor emotional responsiveness leaves him silent for a moment as he absorbs Jason’s words. The omega in him wants to pull his pup into a hug, soaking up the scent that he had punished himself for forgetting when it faded from Jason’s belongings. He would love to drag Jason away from this silly scene and bundle him up in his nest alongside any of his other children in the vicinity, hoarding them close until they grow irritated enough to bust free. His higher brain functions say that this would be a bad idea given Scarface’s volatile behavior and Catman’s propensity toward being kind of a dick. And Bruce is never very eloquent when emotionally compromised, so he has no beautiful words to give in response to Jason’s heartfelt admission.
So Batman clears his throat in classic bat fashion, and proceeds with the plan. Pressing a button snaps open the document compartment of his belt, and he slides out the tightly folded forms he packed in there this morning.
“Then, if you’re willing…I’d like to make it official. I want to adopt you.” He unfolds and thrusts the adoption papers forward, his arm stiffly extended until Red Hood snatches them from his hand.
“What the fuck- where the hell were you hiding those!?” Scarface asks, his wooden mouth hanging open. The question disrupts the atmosphere keeping the strings of Bruce’s heart pulled taut, and he turns back toward their onlookers.
“You aren’t familiar with my utility belt?”
“We didn’t think you kept bat-documents in the damn thing,” Catman says, waving in the direction of Batman’s stomach.
“It doesn’t often come up. Usually only during my part-time stint as a process server.”
“Wait, really?”
Batman turns around again, having heard enough from Catman in one night. Red Hood is holding the adoption forms like he can’t quite remember why he needs them, and Bruce decides he’ll improvise one more time to bring this play to a close. No need to drag this out any longer.
“Take your time to consider my offer. You know how to find me if you want to talk. Goodnight…son.”
Bruce grapples to the closest building before Jason has the chance to answer, saving them both from the agony of further sentimentality. He jogs to the next building over to crouch in the shadows and observe, in case Jason’s business partners start to make things dicey.
But Catman just scratches at the back of his cowl, looking awkward. “You know, Hood, you don’t have to go through with it. Second chances or not, adoption is a big step-”
Jason shoves the fake adoption papers in his vest pocket. “Stop yammering, Garfield. I don’t need you nosing around in my personal life. We’re just here for business. Now grab Pinocchio and his human step stool and let’s get this shipment sorted before the Bat decides he wants to know what we’re doing after all.”
Surprisingly, both rogues just do as he says, though Scarface has some big opinions on Batman that he loudly shares as Bruce heads off for a different corner of Gotham.
Bruce intersects briefly with Damian and Cass on patrol, but they each opt to go their own way again since it’s a quiet night for once. He doesn’t hear directly from Jason again while he’s out, but when he returns home that night, Alfred hands him a large Gotham Knights hoodie he recognizes as Jason’s.
“Master Jason ‘accidentally’ left this behind when he dropped by for smoke grenades earlier. He also appears to have taken one of your sweaters.” He shakes his head in amusement at the memory as Bruce clutches the sweatshirt to his chest.
Bruce hurries upstairs to add the hoodie to his nest, draping it carefully between Duke’s scarf and Tim’s cardigan. He’s received a few nesting items from Jason before, but it’s always harder to refresh his scent than the others’. When he peeks into his bedroom, he finds that the turtleneck he wore this afternoon is no longer resting on his chair, and he lets out a little chirp of joy.
Even though he isn’t in pre-heat yet, he decides to sleep in the nest instead of his bed after showering. Curled up in the warmth and comfort of his nest, surrounded with his pack’s scents, Bruce drifts off, forgetting for a little while how much trouble his city has caused him for the last few months.
Just as Bruce thought, the news passes quickly through not only the Gotham underworld, but with the ordinary citizenry as well. While regular folks are only vaguely aware of Batman’s ongoing custody battles, everyone is up to date on the Bruce Wayne/Batman breakup.
The tabloids are so busy that Bruce can hardly leave his house without getting accosted for a soundbite about his relationship. He plays up the role of scorned omega trying not to show his heartbreak, and soon enough the tide turns toward the question of who Brucie will take as a lover next.
Matches, in turn, receives congratulations from his fellow henchpeople the next time he hits up the bars, though he insists that no matter the relationship between Red Hood and Batman, Matches and his baby daddy are never getting back together.
Batman is not available for a statement on any of the above topics.
Bruce was hoping the news would stay local to Gotham, but when Clark comes into town to interview Bruce about WE’s newest tech startup acquisition, he sadly proves him wrong.
“I hear congratulations are in order?” Clark says once they wrap up their questions. They have private interviews down to a science now, usually leaving them time to enjoy a cup of coffee together afterwards. Clark shakes a wrapped box that he brought in with him.
Bruce frowns. “For what?”
“Word on the grapevine is that you impregnated yourself, so-”
“Get out.”
“Seriously, B, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the baby shower! Even if it was twenty years ago. And we didn’t know each other yet. I brought you a little something anyway, because I care about our friendship even if you don’t.”
“Out.”
Clark tosses the box to him with a laugh, and slips out of his office. Bruce is going to make sure that for the next month he schedules Superman for monitor duty with everyone Clark secretly finds annoying.
Still, joke or not, Bruce isn’t going to refuse his friend’s gift, so he carefully unwraps the box. Atop the tissue paper is a small note that reads “To Jason, from Uncle Clark :)”.
Beneath the paper is a gigantic onesie in blue stripes with the words “Mommy’s Little Man” printed across the chest. It’s terrible. Bruce loves it. He folds it up carefully, nestling it back in the tissue paper before closing the box. He’ll forgive Clark just this once.
After all, he isn’t going to turn down the chance for Jason to tell the world how much he loves his mom.